Out in Nature – 2001 by Jayant Doshi A journey through Himalayan hinterland. Ever since my trip to Kailas Mansarovar and north India, I had a great desire to go in that Himalayan land - to walk and observe the beauty of the land. My dream was fulfilled this June when I made the following trip. From Mumbai we took a train to Jammu, a journey of 35 hours, which passed pleasantly with some good company on the way. On disembarking, we took a taxi to go to the base town from where we were planning to walk to Vaishnodevi. As Bethelem or Vatican is for Christians, Mecca is for Muslims, Tirupati is for Hindus in south India, so is the importance of Vaishnodevi as

one of the four most sacred sites for the Hindus. Vaishnodevi is a temple on top of a mountain, and the path is well laid out along a 14 km route. Most of the path is covered, adequately lighted and it has rest places and provisions for refreshments all along the route. We had planned to start walking straightaway as soon as we reached the base in the evening, and come down by morning so we do not have to stay the night there, and save a day in the process. With that in mind, we put our luggage in storage, but then found out that passes had to be obtained before we could start

the walk. Vaishnodevi is kept open 24 hours a day, and at a rough estimate as many as 50000 people were walking along the route every 24 hours. We took a hotel room, woke early at 5.00 to get our passes but did not get them till 11 and by the time we started walking it was noon, when the sun in overhead, and the heat at its worst. The path, with proper steps, was crowded and we had to meander our way through slow walkers, horses and people who have stopped for a breather or some refreshment. It was mid day, and there was scorching heat coming from the overhead sun. While the steps were well made, the climb was steep and tiring; we were hot and sweating all the way, and stopped for water every now and then to fill our dehydrated body. By 3.00, walking at a steady pace, we suddenly saw the most amazing change in weather. From the hot sunny climb so far, it turned very misty and cooler. We actually

saw the mist move slowly across the valley and the hills, and in minutes the whole area was covered in thick mist and totally invisible to the naked eyes. We reached the top at 4.30, cleaned our feet, put our extras in the storage room and proceeded for the Darshan of the Vaishnodevi. Normally, it would be an overnight stay before one will get their turn but as we had managed to get some VIP passes we were able to bypass all the queues. The temple of Vaishnodevi is inside a cave, accessible by creeping under the huge rocks, and the idols inside must have

been in existence for centuries. As creeping under the rock is inconvenient and takes much longer time, they have dug through the rocks and made a passage for pilgrims to be able to walk, bending a little, through the cave. The number of visitors is such that each pilgrim is literally pushed to keep moving, and we hardly got a glance of what was inside the temple. For the devout, it was a disappointment. For me, it was an experience and the excitement of the long walk. We got some food and rested for some time, and then started walking back at 7.00 p.m. By then, it had turned misty, and drizzling or raining at times, and much cooler. While it was much pleasanter to walk in the cooler dark night, it was not easier. Having walked almost 10 miles climbing up that steep mountain, the walk down took its toll on our legs and feet. The legs started giving in, and some of us had blisters on the feet. We had to stop for rest more often. It was past 11.00 at night, when we reached the base, and it was pouring with rain, and we had to make a dash to get a taxi, get the hotel room, and we all crashed into deep slumber in no time. We had walked over 20 miles within the past eleven hour period, and we paid for it by suffering pains and aches for a few days. With hindsight, it was a bad decision to walk so much in such a short time. While I got over it soon, my colleagues suffered for a few days.

Next day we took the taxi to Jammu, and then the train to Chakki Bank, followed by another taxi to Dalhousie, our first stop in Himachal Pradesh, which we planned to tour from one end to the other for the next three weeks. Being in the footsteps of the Himalayan mountain range, the landscape here is rocky mountains and lot of greenery. Even driving from one place to another, while not comfortable, was enchanting with its scenic beauty. The hills were covered with trees in places, or with bushes and scrubs in places where trees

had been cut, or in many places terrace farming took the place of the natural growth. Even the terrace farms on the slopes of the hills presented an enchanting beauty to the hills. The rivers flowing from the top of the mountains, water trickling down the slopes, and the water gushing down in the valleys produced musical notes that were pleasant to the ears. Dalhousie, the popular summer resort for the British during the Raj days, is a small town on the hill slopes. Next day we visited the Chamunda river with a dam built across it, the Chamunda temple and visited the beautiful village of Chamba. Situated on flat

ground in the valley between two mountain slopes, Chamba valley has been the famous village with many love stories depicted in Indian movies, and many a films have been shot on site in this village. Of course, with modern technology, and a choice of many places, it has lost its importance for Bollywood. Another popular place for shooting films is a place

called Khajjar, a huge ground shaped like a bowl, all covered in green grass, and the whole area surrounded by thick forest It is now a popular picnic spot with lots of people and activities taking place there. Next day we moved to McCleod Ganj, a small town near Dharamshala. McCleod Ganj derives its international fame from the fact that it is the base for Dalai Lama and the Tibetan refugees, and because of this it has thousands of foreigners who can be seen around in that small township. The town, based on some hills, and consisting of no more then three or

four streets, about a hundred shops, is amazing. Every restaurant offers a variety of international cuisine, and every restaurant, shop or hotel is half internet café with hundreds of computers. Any time of the day, the internet cafes seem to be buzzing with people typing away on the computers. Except the Dalai Lama complex, the town consists of rugged houses and poor roads. The Dalai Lama centre has exhibition of pictures and movies showing the terrible treatment meted out by the Chinese since the occupation. Next day we took a taxi, covering Jawalmukhi temple, Kangra fort and the township, Bajeshwari temple, Chamundi devi temple, Kangra museum and the town of Dharmshala. None of the sites is worth the mention for any exceptional beauty or value from touristic point of view. It is interesting how temples of all sorts spring out in this country with a religion that has hundreds of gods and goddesses. Jawalmukhi temple is built on a ground, which is emitting volcancic gas, and the gas is lit which is the centre of the temple

worship. This was the end of our luxury travel by taxi. From this point onwards our travels were in local buses where sitting and keeping our luggage was a huge problem. At times there was no room to move the foot, or the bags were lying on our laps. At every stop more and more passengers would board, and even the engine near the driver would be occupied, and normal attitude was that passengers should have priority over luggage. But no one seemed to answer as to where the luggage should go. While luggage can be put on the top of

the bus, this had to be done by the passenger, and the bags were not safe when it rained. At times, a passenger would sit on the lap of another passenger. The buses are so crowded, that one has to see and experience, as it is impossible to describe it. We took our first of many overnight bus journeys to Manali which we reached early in the morning. As we had time before our

next bus journey, we walked down to the Hidamba and Ghatochka temple based on the famous devil wife of Bhim and his son from the epic Mahabharat. At 9.00 we took the bus to the Rohtang pass, which is high in the mountains, and even at this time of the year, has snow cover. The pass has become a tourist attraction, and tents and ramshackle huts have sprung up to house the vendors who service the tourists. We walked around for a short time, but as it started raining we sat in a tent waiting for our next bus to Keylong. The bus did not even stop to give us a chance to embark, and we had literally to run and board a

moving bus. With two heavy bags to load, this was not an easy embarkation. Once we cross the Rohatang pass, we enter the Lahaul and Spiti valley .The area was closed to all outsiders till 1996, and even to this day, foreigners need a permit to visit this area. We very soon realised that the area was unspoilt by technology, and people were uncorrupted by modern life. People were simple and trusting. Life was simple and slow moving, and nature was at its best. Keylong was a small town at the base of a mountain, halfway through the valley. On top of the mountain was Shashir monastery. We decided to walk the long way, winding round the mountain slope, to the top. It was a wonderful walk, with beautiful natural beauty surrounding us, and fresh air that we could feel through our lungs. In the afternoon we decided to walk down to the river which was gushing down the

valley. It was a pleasant day, and all that walking seemed to have tired us, though we felt invigorated with the fresh air and the natural beauty that we devoured with our eyes. Next day we had to wake up at 4.00 to catch a bus to Grampo, and then to Kaza. Kaza was an ordinary township, with hardly two or three shops and one restaurant. Next day we drove to Kibber, the highest village in the world, which can be approached by car. It has become a great tourist attraction. When we reached it, our first thought was that we should have spent a night there instead of Kaza.

The place was heavenly. On one side was a mountain with a river flowing at its base. On the other side there were a few hills, covered with scattered houses, not more than fifty in all. There were two restaurants with huge balconies protruding over the valley, and with a panaromic view of the whole village. We sat there, like many other tourists, devouring the simplicity and innocent life of those villagers. On the flat ground in the valley, was the school, and the school children were playing volleyball; we watched the game with fascination. The villagers were all busy with their daily routine, cleaning and washing, or going out to do other chores. On the other side of the valley, the army troops were preparing for a trek to Ladakh. Horses were being laden with supplies, and other preparations were in full swing. It felt heavenly, and for hours we sat there observing and absorbing this natural beauty and the lives of those villagers. Most tourists were spending days in that village, and we regretted that we could not do the same. Our next stop, Key monastery, seemed of less interest as the monasteries seem all same, and do not have much of architectural beauty like many temples have. Inside the monateries, one usually found some fascinating wooden furniture

with colourful paintings, and some very old manuscripts. We drove on to Tabo, a dull small township, and next morning we took a long walk towards Dhankar, which has a monastery on top of a hill. After walking almost ten kilometres, we hitched on to a truck. From Tabo, we took a bus to Kalpa, a small township on the east end of the state, and very close to the Tibet border. Being close to the Himalayas, it had greenery, and mountains, and snow and beauty that defy the words to describe it. From Keylong onwards, the Spiti valley is

amazing, beautiful and quite different from other mountain scenery in places like Kashmir and Switzerland. There is hardly any greenery, but the rock formations, and the soil colours are beautiful. Each rock is a shape in itself as if some sculptor has carved it out of the rocks. In places, the top of the mountains hang over the valley overhead, as if the rock will come down crashing to earth, or as if it is trying to reach the sky. Some hills had so smooth surface that it gave an appearance as the hill had been plastered. The shades of colours on these hills were a mixture of hue and shades; from light green to dark green,

different shades of blue, golden yellow, beige like sand, rusty red, pink and shades of brown. Every time we saw a new hill, we wanted to catch it on film as it seemed different from all the others. While the bus journey was long, very uncomfortable and tiring, the view from the windows was wonderful and worth all that discomfort.

The river ran through the valley, gushing along to reach its destination, pushing aside or bypassing huge boulders, and riding over small rocks and stones. The water passing over or through these rocks created a musical note that was pleasing to the ears. The water brushing against the rocks created a marble smooth surface on the rocks, and shaped them into unusual shapes. The water trickled down the steep surfaces, from the top of the mountain, to reach the water below. At places, where the rocks were soft, and incline not that steep, the water would rush down the

slope forming a stream. Driving in those mountains was hazardous, and it is advisable that the driver is local who is conversant with the local conditions. The roads are rough and narrow, and landslides are common. A sudden landslide could easily block the whole path. While we travelled for long hours, the distance we covered was relatively very small. The roads have to make its way along the mountain surfaces, and reduce the steepness by meandering round and along the surface. When the road came to turn round, the U bend was so sharp in places that when turning, one of the bus wheels was actually hanging in the valley when the bus manouvered that bend. Slightest mistake or misjudgement could be fatal. At places the road was washed out by water and just enough surface will be left to cross over; the width of the surface might be just the width of the bus or even less. The drive is not for one

feint at heart. Zigzagging roads that cut the steepness of the cliffs, meandering routes that by pass the obstacles, and unexpected hazards, make these journeys an experience and adventure in itself. Kalpa and Sangla are very near the Tibetan border and the Himalayas, and as such were densely covered with greenery, and with mountains covered with snow. Kalpa is a small town on the steep hill, and we luckily found a very nice hotel at the beginning of the steep hill. It had a huge balcony with a view on to the densely covered valley, and the snow-clad mountains across it. The view was

beautiful, and we spent hours sitting there. We spent two nights at that hotel as it seemed a beautiful place and we liked the hotel with very helpful servants and service. Next day we took a taxi to Sangla. Sangla is a small village in the midst of greenery in the valley. We walked to the river and were offered stream water, which we drank. It was first time we drank such water and it was the best water we had ever tasted. When we left Kalpa, we offered a small tip to the waiter cum manager, who very politely and sweetly refused to accept it. He said, it was a great pleasure to have us, and that was better than any tip we can give. We were taken aback with the simplicity and honesty of the people here, and everywhere we had been so far. We took a bus, the longest journey at one span that took us through Shimla, Chandigarh, and then to Rishikesh, a journey spanning over 36 hours. From the Himalayan region of north India, we moved to the lower part of the Himalayan range, north of Delhi. The atmosphere, the crowds and traffic, cycles and rickshaws, people and animals, shops and hawkers, pollution and noise, sweat and the heat in Rishikesh reminded us that we were now in real India. We reached Rishikesh in the afternoon, booked a hotel nearby and went to see some sights in the town. Rishkesh, or the town of Rishis (sages) is meant to be full of rishis, and lot of

foreigners but in our short stay we did not really get that feel. There are so many ashrams that one could spend months in the town and still not cover everything. Every religion and every sect is represented in this town. After our experience in bus travels so far, we decided to leave most of our luggage in Rishikesh hotel. For the following week we survived on minimal clothes and luggage. Next day, we left by 4.00 a.m. and took a bus to Badrinath. Badrinath is one of four

religious places which most Hindus consider them as sacred and are normally covered in one trip. Being at considerable height, the journey was slow and tedious, and the climate much cooler compared to Rishikesh. Millions of devout followers visit Badrinath and the town is built entirely to serve these pilgrims. The river Ganges flows through the town. Some hot water springs come out where a temple is built, and provision made for people to take bath. When we booked into a hotel, we found out that most hotels do not provide hot water as all visitors go to the ponds and take bath. We did the same, and took our bath in the open, from the hot water pond. Water is nice and hot, but the gazing looks of others, and taking the bath in the open, was not comfortable or congenial, specially to dry and change the clothes. While one of my friends declared that he intended to wake up next day at 3.30 to take part in early morning prayers, I firmly declared that I intended to sleep till late. But I had no choice, when I found that the temple bells started chiming for ten minutes at 3.30 in the early morning, and the bells were loud enough to wake up the whole township. The bells

were followed by one hour of recorded prayers, which could be heard all over the town. I had no choice but to wake up early. Later we took a bus to go to Hem Kund, the holiest shrine for the Sikhs, and the famous valley of flowers. We reached the base of this mountain in the evening. A Gurdwara is built on the shores of river Ganges which flows in full force at this juncture, and facilities for overnight stay are available around the area. After dinner in the Gurdwara, we went for an early night as we had a tiring day. Next day, quite early, we started our walk up the mountain. The walk, with steps almost the whole way, was 13 kilometres in length (almost 9 miles) and lot of people used either horses or doli to go up that steep mountain. Seeing my grey hair, I was pestered by lot of people renting horses, as most assumed that with my age there was no way I would be able to walk all that way. While walking up, those who were coming down after completing the pilgrimage, were offering us sweets or powdered sugar, and encouraging us to keep walking. We reached the base station on the mountain around lunchtime. We were planning to go to either Hem Kund or Valley of Flowers that afternoon, and finish the other one next day. Each one was in different direction, and at least 10 kilometres walk. But we were advised that it was too late to go at that late hour as we will not be able to come back before it got dark. We took the advice and lazed around there for the rest of the day. As none of us was very keen on the religious aspect of visiting Hem Kund, and as the path leading to that site was overcrowded, we decided to go to the world famous valley of flowers. It is said that the whole valley is covered with flowers in full season, which comes around July and August. It has more varieties of flowers then can be found in any other place on this earth, and many of the flowers are exclusive to this area. Botanists come from far afield to study the flowers and fauna of this valley. Even at the end of June, what we could see was beautiful, and when all the flowers bloom the valley must be a picture of beauty. While the path to Hem Kund was so crowded that it was difficult to walk, but to this beauty spot I counted total of 5 people in the whole day. We walked for over 10 kilometres and the scenery in the valley and surrounding was so pleasing to the eyes. We sat in between, admiring the view. It was long tiring walk, but it was so refreshing and pleasant, and we were glad that we chose this instead of going to Hem Kund. We were tired at the end of this walk, but we decided to carry on to our next stop. I felt that with all this walking, and further 13 km to walk down, I might suffer the next day. We still had one more mountain to climb, and I decided to be safe then to be sorry. For the first time on this trip, I decided to take a horse, and I regretted it. Walking would have been less painful as riding the horse for over three hours, and that also going

down, really hurts the back and is very uncomfortable. When I came down, I felt more tired than if I had walked the distance. Next morning, we took the bus to go to Kedarnath, the abode of Lord Shiva and another important pilgrimage site for Hindus. Situated at the base of the Himalayas, the temple of Shiva is based on top of a mountain which is about 10 miles walk from the base. The path is well laid out with steps, and the path is at least ten feet wide in most places. In many places, where there is a curve on the path, and valley on the side, metal posts and handlebars have been put for safety and

support. The walk was quite difficult as it was quite steep in places. After having walked a few such mountains already, we still found this one difficult to walk. The last half hour seemed like ages as we really found difficult to breath and walking got harder and harder.

But we made it by midday. Devout followers of Shiva have special pooja, and for different parts of the country there are different priests. The priest who covered Bombay area was eagerly waiting for a devotee as few came from that area, and seeing me, he was elated. But when I firmly told him that I was not interested, he felt disappointed. We spent over two hours, taking photos, lazing around and had our lunch. This was the last stop on our long trip and we somehow felt sadness that this wonderful journey was coming to an end soon.

Over the whole journey, we encountered rough roads and some gruesome driving conditions, but we did not face any mishaps or problems. But that was all to change as in the next twenty-four hours we had more excitement and mishaps then we had over the previous twenty days or so. Walking back, down the mountain, we came on a sharp bend where there was a steep cliff on one side, and a steep valley on the other side. The valley was covered with thick growth of trees and plants. There were metal handlebars along the curve of the road, but a few feet were missing, possibly vandalised. We saw a crowd there peeping into the valley. An old lady walking along the road, had either tripped or fainted, and fallen into the valley. The path was at least ten feet or more wide, and it baffled us why anyone should walk that close to the valley edge. One young guide had climbed down the side of the valley and had established that the old lady was still

alive, caught in the middle by some trees, and now the problem was how to bring her up. As we could not do much to help, we carried on walking. On our way, we saw many

people rushing with ropes and other material to save the old lady. We reached the base township and had our dinner and opted for early night, and having walked so much in one day, we had sound sleep. Next morning we took a bus to take us back to Rishikesh. Driving round winding roads along the mountain cliffs, the bus suddenly stopped and we all came out to see what had happened. A landslide was taking place right in front of our bus. A huge rock, size of a dining table, was

blocking the path, and vehicles had piled up on either side. The landslide, on a much

lesser scale, was till continuing. We knew that we could have a long day ahead perhaps we could be here for the night also. But to our surprise a tractor appeared on the scene, and before we knew, it had cleared the path of all the rubble and rocks. We all were happy with joy. Our journey resumed, but after lunch we again stopped because of another landslide. But this was cleared quickly and we continued our journey.

About four in the evening a bus coming from the opposite direction stopped our bus and informed that the road ahead was blocked. Our driver continued driving, to see for himself what the problem was. A tree had fallen across the road, blocking the road, but there was just enough space to get by, and the driver managed just to do that. We all thought that we had passed the obstacle and everyone clapped with joy. But soon we were proved wrong. The real obstacle came in sight and we knew that this would be the end of our journey for the day, and that we might be spending the night in the bus. A tree had come off its roots, and fallen across the road, and was lying at 45 degree angle being held up by another tree on the other side of the road. There was no way the bus would pass this, nor would it be possible to move the tree trunk without some heavy equipment. There was enough space for small vehicles to

go through.

But this is India, and an enterprising young man, driving a jeep, and who saw this, drove away at speed, and soon came back with other jeeps. They offered to take us and we negotiated the price. We sat in one jeep, and the driver, hardly 15 or 16 in age, was with his companion sitting next to him. We had hardly crossed the overhanging tree and the jeep stopped. We asked the driver what had happened and he told us that there was no fuel, and assured us not to worry. He opened the engine and blew

into the carburettor, managed to push the last drop of fuel. He managed to start the jeep. After a while, the road was downhill, and he drove the jeep without any fuel for over two miles when we reached the petrol station. While we had paid for the trip, the driver still took other passengers on the way whoever waved for a lift. At one stage we had two or three passengers sitting on the roof of the jeep. We reached Rishikesh in the afternoon, and had planned to take an overnight bus to Delhi. The hotel manager suggested that we take the train, and we rushed into a taxi to catch the train. We assumed the

station would be round the corner and should reach it in good time. But we soon found that the station was in another town and a good one and half hour journey. Luckily the train was at a later time, and we just made to the station on time. We came to the end of our wonderful journey when we all split up on our own way in Delhi. It was the end of a long, tiring journey. But there was sadness also. We loved and enjoyed the journey. We enjoyed the mountains and the natural beauty that we savoured over those days. We enjoyed the walks, and we enjoyed the fresh air. I might have given a description of the journey, but I cannot ever describe the beauty we saw. It has to be enjoyed in person. Photos or articles cannot capture the spirit of that beauty. And having been three times, I still would not mind going again to that beautiful land. (For those interested, one can see about 90 photographs of the above journey on the web site www.esamskriti.com )